


Live On

by sirwatshon



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ballet, Anal Sex, Bottom Sherlock Holmes, Dildos, Lingerie, M/M, Military Kink, Top John
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-03 13:12:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2852015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sirwatshon/pseuds/sirwatshon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Watson is an army doctor who, after being shot, is taken back to London and inserted into the rehabilitation program, which surprisingly consists in...ballet!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Live On

**Author's Note:**

> This story is a Christmas gift for the amazing Amba (startingwiththeridingcrop), i hope you'll enjoy it darling <3  
> Merry Christmas!  
> (and happy johnlock sex)

“Ladies, put your feet in fifth. Now please show me the _battement tendu_. No, no, NO Anderson stop, for God’s sake! You’re doing it all wrong! Can anyone be such an enormous idiot?”

“Erm… So is this supposed to be the class I will be working in?” asked John with a touch of anxiety and skepticism in his voice

“Yes, Captain Watson, Mr.Holmes is going to be your ballet teacher. I can assure you he is the absolute best in his field, that’s why i’m placing you in his hands. He has seen much more serious conditions than yours, and i absolutely trust him to heal you as well”

John absolutely didn’t see how learning ballet would have helped him. He had a limp, he was suffering from several psychological disorders since he came  back from Afghanistan: _how exactly_ would jumping and floating from one side of the room to the other would have helped him? And besides, he was a hundred percent positive he never in his life would have been able to do _that_.

“You must be the new student. Afghanistan or Iraq?”

“What-how did you?”

“Oh, that was quite simple, I’d be surprised if anyone could _not_ see it. So, what’s your name again?”

“John Watson, former Captain in the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers”

“I see you didn’t lose the military posture. That’s good, at least you won’t be bent over the whole time, unlike many of my other students”

“Mr. Holmes, I don’t know if you’re aware of that, but I have a limp and I’m not sure I-“

“Psychosomatic”

“Sorry, what?”

“Your limp is clearly psychosomatic. It won’t be long until it will be gone, I believe there are other things to heal in your case. Now come John, and show me what you can do” said Sherlock pointing at the bar inside the room.

Oh perfect. Alright.

John stood in front of the bar “What am I supposed to do with the cane?”

“Leave it on the floor, it’s unnecessary”

Unnecessary? Oh. Fine.

“Place your hand on the bar, John. Alright, now show me a first position”

He knew everyone was staring at him, he could feel it.

“I don’t know what that is” he started hearing the first giggles

“Invent, then, be creative”

John crossed his arms and stubbornly looked in front of him, standing still. He didn’t like to be made fun of, that wasn’t the purpose of him wasting his time in a bloody ballet class. Him. A soldier and doctor. That was ridiculous.

“Pretty much”

“Uh?”

“Yes John, that’s pretty much like it. You see, first position is just like that” started saying Sherlock, completing his sentence with sticking his stretched legs together with feet as apart as comfort allowed him to.

“Now, John, try doing that” said Sherlock. John liked his name when Sherlock said it in his profound, almost baritonal, and definitely sensual voice.

John tried his best to imitate what the teacher did, and considering his limp that was quite difficult.

“Okay. Let me see.” Sherlock took both his hands to his chin , joined them as if in prayer, and started walking around John.

“First of all, you need to be turned out, meaning that you need to hold this position, as well as the other four, being rotated from your hips socket. Alright. Now, tailbone dropped down, tight tummy, shoulders down, long neck, tight legs”

At every remark John tried to correct his posture. He was focusing so much on the task that he almost stopped breathing.

“That’s good, John” said Sherlock with a brief smile. “Okay class, the lesson is over. See you tomorrow”

John went out of the room with a grin on his face, even though he didn’t exactly know why. Maybe because it was the first time he allowed himself to think about something other than his problems. Or maybe because his teacher’s arse was glorious in those tight black pants of his.

“That’s unbelievable!” said one of the students stopping him out of the room “I’ve never seen him so calm, normally he would have screamed at you. He must have found you really impressive!”

“Oh, erm, thanks, I suppose”

Well, that was awkward.

John was still thinking about that previous exchange when he walked out of the building, but a voice stopped him from going any further:”John! John Watson!”

Oh no, not again!

“You forgot this” said Sherlock with a long stick in his hands and a grin on his face. It was John’s can. He had been walking all that time without it. He didn’t know what to say, he just stared at him in amazement.

“I guess it proves my point, then. Your limp is psychosomatic.”

John cleared his throat and said:”Yeah, I guess. Well, thank you Mr.Holmes. At least something good happened today.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. This day has been positive on many respects for you, John. You started dancing, for one. And you weren’t that bad. Not as much as the others anyway.”

“Okay… Well, I’ll take that as a compliment”

“It is”

“Alright… See you tomorrow, then?”  
“Of course. I’m expecting to see you here not later than 9am.”

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

It was almost three weeks now that John had been spending all his days in the Dance&Arts Academy, and he had to admit he was doing quite well. He loved that during the hours in which he learned the basis of ballet he would focus only on it, on how to move his body. There was only one exception, and it was right in front of him all the time. But to be honest John’s attraction to Sherlock’s body didn’t have a negative influence on his practising, quite the opposite, in fact. When Sherlock was around, John seemed to focus even more on what he was doing, and he did it even better. Sherlock’s presence had  the power to wake John up in every possible way.

John had tried to deny the physical attraction he felt for his teacher for almost two weeks before realising it was utterly impossible to ignore it. Just as it was utterly impossible that Sherlock would ever have liked him back.

“Ladies, put your feet in first. Now you’re going to bend your knees for me” said Sherlock from behind John’s shoulders.

Oh fuck, that sound dirty. No John, keep it together. For God’s sake, you’re not a teenager anymore, keep those thoughts out of your head and focus on what you have to do.

“Keep your knees just at the middle of the foot, you’ll have to spring up in the air and land in exactly the same place. So, just do a knee _plieé_ and land exactly in that position. Ready, steady, go!”

Sherlock looked at his class while they kept doing the exercise, clearly catching every detail, every imprecision with his piercing look to report it later. When it was evident that they didn’t have the strenght to keep going without at least a break Sherlock shouted “Alright, stop! You, Hooper. Put those feet together right after jumping, we’re not horse-riding here: your legs must stick together! And you, Lestrade, please keep the right posture, your back must always be stretched. Watson, let them see how to do the _sauté_ correctly”

“Me?”

“Yes, John, you” said Sherlock looking up in amusement

Oh, alright. John cleared his throat, took the right position near the bar, pulled his chin up and started jumping and bending slightly while landing in the same place.

“That’s how to do it”

Was it normal to feel this pleased?

“God, it seems like you all haven’t learned anything during these months… Alright, it’s all for today. Keep practising if you don’t want to be terribly humiliated again by the newbie. You all can go. John, you stay.”

John started feeling very nervous. What could possibly Mr. Holmes want from him? He knew there was no reason to worry: Mr. Holmes had just said that he did the sauté correctly. But what if he was only mocking him? No, he was just getting paranoid now…

“Do you have anything scheduled for tonight?” said the profound voice unexpectedly.

John turned around. Did his teacher keep him there just to do small talk? “No, i have nothing to do tonight”

Nor the other nights, for that matter. He did nothing but stay at home, have a bottle of beer while watching the telly, and that was it, that was all what he had been doing since he came back to London. The only difference was that now he did it only during the night and he spent his days dancing. Quite frankly, he owed a huge favour to the army project that brought him there.

“I’d like to propose you something, then. You’re not stupid John, you know you’re better at dancing than anyone in your class, except for me, but that’s obvious, there’s very few people who can say they dance better than I do. But the point here is: I see potential in you, and I’d like to see that potential grow as much as possible, so that one day, in two or three years, you’ll be able to compete. But, here comes the part you might not like, you need to do extra hours of training, which of course means sacrificing your free time to reach the only objective that truly matters: perfection. Ballet will become your work, your passion, your free time, and your hobby. If you disagree with any of the above, just say so and I’ll understand completely.”

“No, I want to do that”

John didn’t need to hear anything else. Mr. Holmes had spoken about ballet with such passion that John thought he would have convinced even a rock to dance. But what most of all made him accept this mad idea – because it was mad: he didn’t have the right age to compete anymore, plus he was just starting now, and the probabilities to make it were one in a million- was that Mr. Holmes really seemed to believe in him, and that had been a quite rare event in John’s life.

Sherlock gave a liberatory sigh and smiled: “We’ll start tomorrow night, then”

“Wait, didn’t you ask me if I was free tonight?”

“Quite right, I didn’t expect you to be this observant, John”- a flash of irony passed on Sherlock’s face-“Since it’s late I wanted to take you to a little restaurant right at the end of the street, you must be starving. If you agree, of course”

“Oh, yes, of course. Thank you Mr. Holmes”

“Sherlock, please” said the ballet teacher smiling, then immediately turning his back and taking his long black coat. “Go and change yourself. I’ll be waiting for you outside”

John waited for Sherlock to get out, then dashed to the changing room, quickly trying to wash away all the sweat and putting his normal clothes on. Then he rolled the tight clothes he had used to practise into a ball and thrust them into his sack. He was going to have dinner with Mr. Holmes. Or Sherlock, as he wanted John to call him. But that didn’t mean anything. John went out of the building still in a daze when Sherlock turned back to him, smiled, locked the ballet school and started walking.

“So, John… You were in the army before”

“Yes, I was.”

“But I can tell you weren’t a simple soldier. You probably were an army doctor.”

“Wow, that’s… amazing! Yes!”

“Then you got injured, but it obviously wasn’t your leg to get hurt as we all verified it to be working perfectly”

“It was the shoulder, in fact”

Sherlock paused, as if reflecting. They had arrived to an italian restaurant, “Angelo’s”, the owner’s of which seemed to know Sherlock as he welcomed them very warmely and gave them the best table he got.

After a while, John asked: “What about you?”

 “What about me?”

“Oh I don’t know, how did you discover your passion for ballet? At what age did you start? What do you like to do in your free time? Do you have any girlfriend?”

“I’ve always loved ballet, got the passion from my mom, started at 5. I do nothing but dance, even though crime interests me very much. And God, no, no such thing as a girlfriend”

The answer to the last question seemed so bitter to John that he felt the need to ask candidly: “A boyfriend, then? Which is fine, by the way”

“I know it’s fine. John, I need to tell you ballet is my life, I’m in need of no relationship: I consider myself married to ballet, and while I’m flatterd by-“

“No, no, no, I didn’t mean to say… I just… I just wanted to say that it’s all fine”

Sherlock stared at him for five seconds, simply said “Thank you” and luckily moved on to talk about their extra lessons.

But while John sincerely didn’t mean to hit on Sherlock, after his words he couldn’t help biting angrily the tomato he had stuck into the fork and feeling annoyed with himself.

\----------------------------------------------

 

ONE MONTH LATER

“Now stand in fourth position, put one arm to side, one arm to front. Pliè, open up your arms, bring them together, and passèe. That’s right! These are the basis for pirouette, so hopefully-”

“Don’t tell me i’m not going to learn how to do a pirouette today, Sherlock!” said John in dismay

“When you’ll be at a more advanced level-”

“Come on! I didn’t come here to do just this”

Sherlock looked at him strangely. Thinking about it, he had been watching him that way the whole day. Well, if it was for the military pants he was wearing Sherlock could’ve said to him they weren’t appropriate for a ballet class instead of looking at him all the time.

“Alright, those were the first steps. If you want to actually turn you’ll want to have your standing leg firmly to the ground like this” said Sherlock coming near John, bending and pushing John’s right leg steadily to the ground. God, Sherlock was standing right in front of his crotch… Alright, just don’t look down John, look right in front of you and _focus, focus, focus._

“All the weight will have to be fully on this leg, right? Do you think you can do this?”

John was forced to look down, and the sight of him so close almost made him blush. _Almost._

“Yes, I’m ready”

Sherlock stood up and took a few steps back. John focused once again and turned once, landing almost in the same position as before. Sherlock smiled “Well, it wasn’t perfect but kudos to you for wanting to try. I like your ambition, that’s what’s going to take you far in ballet.”

“Why don’t you show me how to do it?”

“Do you really want me to?” said Sherlock raising his eyebrows.

“Of course, I am curious! You almost never show anything in class, you only explain…”

“Alright then.”

Sherlock took the initial position and started pirouetting. He did five pirouettes one after the other. John was astonished, not only for the technical perfection, but mostly for Sherlock’s gracefulness. He made it seem like he was flying in the air, as light as a feather.

At the end, John stayed silent for a while and then said “Why are you teaching me these things?”

“Because you have talent”

“No, it’s not me the one who has talent in here! Look at you Sherlock! I’m not an expert, but i’m pretty sure you could be exhibiting in West End or something…”

“You know nothing, John” finally said Sherlock, coming closer from behind. He rested his whole body lenght on John’s back, his nose tickling John’s ear. John stayed still. No this couldn’t be happening, this might be a dream. “You are better than you think, John” whispered Sherlock, licking John’s neck. John’s breath started to become heavier. He turned back, grabbed Sherlock’s hips and kissed him, inserting the tongue into his mouth. Was it right? It didn’t matter, not a bit. Sherlock started rubbing up against John, making him feel his full lenght on the lower abdomen. John grabbed Sherlock’s hair and started to pull it gently, making him moan. Was it the right place to do it? God, he had been waiting for it for such a long time… “John” Sherlock moaned. He started pulling John’s pants down, freeing John’s fully hard prick up into the air. “John, take me now” “I don’t have anything to prepare you for it, Sherlock, i’m sorry” “Don’t be” said Sherlock smirking. He lowered his own pants and revealed to be wearing a fuchsia lace thong. God, it was so turning on…. Then he turned around and revealed a violet dildo completely stuck up his arse. John gulped loudly. God, it was just too much. He did those pirouettes with that inside him?

 “Come here, John” said Sherlock while bending on all fours with his ass up in the air.  John bent, placed his hands on Sherlock’s cheeks, spread them, and slowly took the dildo out. “Good, the butthole is well lubed. When did you do that? Don’t tell me you go around like this everyday” said John while sticking three fingers in a row in Sherlock’s ass. Sherlock could only manage to say “No… but today you were wearing those pants and i just had to _… Mon Dieu, Jean, je vous en prie, prenez moi, je ne en peux plus_ ” God, was that french? John didn’t know what Sherlock said, but it turned him on so fucking much  that he couldn’t wait anymore: he inserted his member into Sherlock’s asshole and started to move slowly onwards and backwards, taking his whole cock all the way out and then again all in, making his balls slap loudly against Sherlock’s butt, making Sherlock moan everytime he entered him again.

But his knees started to hurt and the position was very uncomfortable. “Now you’ll have to do a little thing for me, Sherlock” said John stopping, with a loud whining sound from Sherlock. “Can you stand up for me?” “Y-yes” answered Sherlock even though it was evident that he wasn’t able to do it. So John lifted them both up, never taking his prick out of him, and took Sherlock nearer to the bar, to which he hanged with both his hands. “Thank you” said John kissing Sherlock’s shoulder, and started moving again causing Sherlock’s screams of pleasure. John tried to keep Sherlock steady beause his knees trembled so much he was afraid he would fall and hurt himself. “ _Jean… MON DIEU JEAN_ ” said Sherlock coming and almost collapsing to the floor, which he would have done if it wasn’t for John, still humping him faster and faster, while holding him up. Then he came squirting inside Sherlock, removed his cock from inside him, and lied them both on the ground.

 “ _Jean, tu est mon corageux soldat_ ” said Sherlock, curling under John’s arm. “You didn’t tell me you speak french” “I’m half french and half english” said Sherlock smiling. “Sherlock, can you do me a favour?” “Yes, John?” “Next time put the lingerie on and speak french again.”


End file.
